


a little healthy competition

by fated_addiction



Category: GOT7, K-pop, KARA (Band), Korean Actor RPF, Red Velvet (K-pop Band), 룸메이트 | Roommate (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Friendship/Love, MUSH basically, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 23:02:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>The night before he leaves for Nicaragua, he calls to complain. "Yugyeom stole my socks. The pizza ones."</i>
</p>
<p>Youngji has never been good at keeping her own secrets. Especially when everyone else seems to know them anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	a little healthy competition

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. 
> 
> Cavity-inducing-I've-been-at-the-airport-too-long-wrote-this-on-my-phone apology for hiatus-ing myself because of RL.

The night before he leaves for Nicaragua, he calls to complain.

"Yugyeom stole my socks. The pizza ones," he mutters, and she listens to zippers snap together, clothes rustling, and something _falls_ as she fights to bite back a yah, Jackson, get it TOGETHER. "I have to fly with these socks. I feel weird when I travel without them."

"You're going to the jungle," she says dryly.

"Socks are still important."

"They'll be there when you get back," she offers since, okay, she should be a _little_ supportive of Jackson and his adventure.

Youngji was the last to know, actually. In fact, if anything, she should be mad at him for letting the Internet tell her that he was going away to the jungle because, well, it's the jungle, Youngji-ah, and it's the every man experience! She rolls her eyes, just thinking about it again.

She isn't angry though, okay, but she is a little disappointed and maybe, _maybe_ slightly confused. He gets mad at her for not telling him things. Like that she is, was, still nervous about rapping on Hara's solo debut album or that she's got a little something more when KARA holds their next round of Japanese concerts. It's not like she actively keeps secrets from Jackson. They're not like that; they're just, er, well, _whatever_.

"I'd ask you to bring me a present," she says. There's been a pause and some silence and she realize she's being an idiot, just sitting on her bed and listening to Jackson shove a billion things into a suitcase, all of which he doesn't need. "But," she adds, snorting, "you'd probably try and bring me a snake."

Jackson snorts. "I hate snakes. You'd probably have to save me from the snake that I tried to bring you because they're _gross_ and you're pretty fearless anyway."

Youngji feels her face warm. Actually, she's bright red and she can see herself in the mirror across her bed. Her eyes are a little wide. Her cheeks puff out and this is ridiculous.

It's not a compliment, she tells herself. "I hate spiders," she offers, and really, it's not even convincing enough to leave her head. But, you know, here's your mouth and now insert foot. "Did you talk to your parents?" she asks, instead.

"Yup." He rambles through, half-distracted. She imagines he's found the socks. "Mom says hi by the way. She's going to send you more books to practice so she can call you, and, uh, I don't know... embarrass the hell out of me because that's what mothers do."

"I did ask for baby pictures," she deadpans.

"I still hate you for it."

This is normal, of course. They talk at least once a week and if they don't, they fight because, well, they have to have _something_ to fight about besides transitioning out of living together for the majority of a year. (Yeah. She still misses him, but she'd rather her eonnis' backing experiments and _die_ than admit to it.) She sometimes escapes to the boys' dorm which, well, would be scandalous if Jackson's members didn't expect her, Bambam acts like the awkward little brother with a crush (she's awkwardly flattered but mostly confused), and everyone, literally _everyone_ , tells them _fighting_ and _we're rooting for you_ when neither of them has done anything yet.

"Read something about you," he says. Casually, which mean she's in trouble. She listens to him sit. Something falls off the bed. "You said that you'd rather live with Zhoumi-hyung if we did --"

She groans before he even finishes. Her hand hits her face and covers her eyes.

"I can't believe you're bringing that up."

"I'm _offended_ ," he insists.

"You're an idiot," she scoffs.

"I mean," Jackson continues. "If I were a girl, Zhoumi-hyung would be a pretty awesome choice. But, like, company solidarity, Youngji-ah, and you're basically family so why didn't you say someone like Taecyeon. Should I tell him --"

"Yah!" She snaps into the phone. " _Don't you dare._ "

"His voice is pretty sexy," he muses.

Youngji makes a strangled noise in the back of her throat, spinning on her bed and basically _faceplanting_ to the sound of Jackson's laughter in her ear. She's going to kill him, she decides. Or maybe he'll get lost in the jungle and have to, like, wrestle a dangerous animal.

"But you won't be there," he says and idiot, she thinks, as she turns red again and realizes that she's gone and said it out loud. "You're the only one who would take on a dangerous animal for me. You would be the pirate. I would be the damsel."

"That's really romantic of me," she manages. Her voice goes raspy and she's swallowing, strangely nervous, even more so aware of just how exposed she may go ahead and _be_. "You'd be a terrible damsel."

"You know you love me," he adds.

It's a sharp comment, a stupid comment, and the line goes dead and all of the sudden, she can only hear how her breathing goes and answers his. Her bedroom feels peculiar and small. She waits. Then she breathes again, if anything because she doesn't know what to say.

"I do," Youngji says carefully, too carefully. Her fingers twitch and her hands slide out in front of her. She curls a fist into her blankets. Her room's a mess, she thinks briefly. 

Youngji wishes this was a different moment. One of those moments where she go and say something as simple as _i'll miss you_ even though he is coming back and it's only going to be a couple of weeks. 

If she's honest, she'd say that it's a simple equation: they're in friend-limbo and one of them is more afraid than the other. They confess to each other naturally. It's the physicality and the skinship that carries the weight of the real admission, if anything.

Her head drops over her knees. She's going to lose it, she thinks.

"Good," he still says after awhile. His voice feels thick. "See you in a couple of weeks."

Youngji picks at her sheets. 

She won't tell him she'll miss him.

 

 

 

 

 

The second or third day in (it's only been _three_ days), her eonnis stage and an intervention on her behalf, cornering her in the practice room without warning.

It's been a long time coming, after all, considering that Jackson is Jackson and Jackson is _her_ terrible secret. Everyone knows that Youngji is terrible at keeping her own secrets.

She feels like people are waiting for her to snap though, to say in some grand gesture -- which, if you know her well, is totally not like her. She'd try valiantly at a grand gesture, but fail miserably and probably burn something in the kitchen a la The Great Chocolate Making Incident of KARA's Japanese Dorm 2015. She doesn't want to talk about that either.

Her eonnis though, they swarm both her and their manager, eyeing him like sharks in a water waiting to feed.

"She needs ice cream," Gyuri tells their manager-oppa, who thought he was going to be mid-lecture about how Seungyeon really, really, _really_ needs to watch her dirty language. "And not the corner store. Like real, honest-to-god ice cream that equates to like, _mind-blowing_ ," Gyuri says too. "And maybe I'll think about telling Seungyeon to stop cursing."

"Uh, how long have you known me? And she needs a shopping trip," Seungyeon says, patting Youngji's head. "It's like a divorce, if you think about it. He's there. She's here."

"A temporary separation," Hara quips, hitting Seungyeon's arm. "Stop trying to project your love life problems on our poor, sweet maknae."

Youngji groans and buries her face in her hands. Hara tugs at her hair. She swears they're all trying to fill in the time with something. They have another rehearsal in an hour for their performance and food is such a bad idea since she's nervous, maybe too nervous, to eat ice cream and think about Jackson since he should really be the one here telling her that she's an idiot for being worry.

But he's in the jungle, she tells herself, fighting off tigers, even though he's not in Serengeti (he'd drag her there with him) and all she can _really_ think about that time JB-oppa made them watch a documentary about how terrifying monkeys are in the jungle. She doesn't know how to miss him without _just_ missing him. It's a weird self-awareness. She doesn't tackle it, doesn't touch it, but all those thoughts and feelings and THINGS that she's usually so good at keeping to herself stir anyway.

"I don't have problems," Seungyeon argues, even though she's turning bright red and they all know she's thinking about Jimin and how much a noona romance would _freak_ her out even though all Jimin has done is said hi, your hair's really pretty, and: "Noona, I can help you carry that." That last one's true because all of them were there and Seungyeon is super, super lucky that she's pretty when pink.

Seungyeon pokes Youngji's nose.

"We're talking about you anyway," she says. "And how neither of you are dating yet. You need to hurry up so I can live vicariously through you and your love life."

Youngji's nose wrinkles. She flushes and can't think of anything else to say.

"I wonder if he brought the socks," she mutters, shrugging.

"See!" Gyuri grins and drops next to her on the floor. She kicks gently at Youngji's leg. "Married! They're married. It's a divorce."

"What if he gets eaten by a tiger?" Hara quips. "Then it's an accident."

"You're scary, eonni," Youngji breaks in. Hara moves to stand in front of her, grinning. She winks. "Really, really scary," she adds too.

"We're just making sure that he won't leave you alone," Hara says.

Youngji vaguely registers an annoyed sound and has to bite her lip extra hard because she knows it belongs to her and it will be louder next time.

"He can't," she replies. "He still has to give me back that book he borrowed," she counts off on her fingers, "and teach me how to fence. Oh, _oh_! And he promised to help my mom paint the kitchen." She's solemn, looking at her eonnis. "He'd never disappoint my mom, you know."

Hara blinks first. Gyuri snorts and hides her mouth behind a hand. Seungyeon watches her with a mix of jealousy and amusement.

"Maknae-ah," she says gently. "You are totally _fucked_."

Their manager groans.

 

 

 

 

 

Youngji has met Seulgi before. It was two or three variety shows this year, or something silly like that, and then there was Amber grinning and pushing them together with a, "I now dub you friends!"

They have a music special together and Youngji is abandon ship since Seungyeon spotted Jimin, had a meltdown, with Hara is trying to confess to Heechul while Gyuri kept whispering to her to _run away_. She and Seulgi meet at the soda machine down the hall, coppery locks, twin, awkward smiles, and costumes that neither of them would actual wear in real life. She smiles at the other girl, shoves money into the machine and buys them both sodas.

"So," Seulgi smiles through a thank you, "I hear you and I have the same problem."

"Problem?"

The other girl points down the hall to where she knows the GOT7 dressing room lives. It's the only room that lives down that corner of the hall because there's the exit and the elevators and oh _god_ she saw the Wonder Girls earlier and was super close to forgetting her name _and_ existence.

"Amber." Youngji groans and the other girl continues. "Boys," Seulgi offers. She pats her on the arm. "Except Jackson has the kind of energy that makes me want to, like, punch him in the face or something."

Youngji laughs. "That's good to know."

Seulgi grins. "He's a nice guy. He's just a little too much for me and by too much for me I mean, he --"

"It's Mark," Youngji guesses. They huddle against the vending machine and begin to watch the mess of people at the opposite end of the hallway. There are racks of clothes, a PD, and someone curses and trips over their feet.

"No. Joohyeon had me swear him off."

She shakes her head. "This is like a weird game sometimes."

"I like JB-oppa," Seulgi says without batting an eye. She shrugs into a half-smile. "I don't know why because he's cold and quiet and I first thought he was kind of a dead fish."

If Youngji's surprised, she doesn't show it. She doesn't know JB well enough to even consider how other people see him. She's never been like that either. She simply sees him for who he is and really, when it comes down to it, he's important to Jackson and that's that.

"What happened?" she asks and for once, she thinks, it's good to not talk about herself.

Seulgi waits for a moment. She sips her soda, leans against the vending machine, and waits as another group of people pass.

"Amber-eonni happened," she says. There's a little grin on Seulgi's mouth. "I guess," she tells her, "I just wanted to say something about solidarity or whatever." She raises a fist too. "Fighting."

Youngji laughs.

It still makes her think though. There's a million things going on around them, a million different changes, and please, hopefully, _maybe_ she'll get to see Jackson before she heads to Japan and isn't home like _ever_ despite the occasional, temporary dream that she has about retiring at twenty-five and buying a ton of cute, little coffee shops.

"Thanks I think."

Seulgi shrugs.

"And oppa's not a cold fish," Youngji offers lamely. "He's more like an awkward mom."

"I take care of my members the same way. I get it. Maybe too well, actually."

The two girls laugh and hit their sodas together in some kind of lame, silly toast. It feels good and some soda splashes against the edges of her fingers and her stylist is going to kill her if she stains any of the white she's wearing.

"Wait until you start missing him," Youngji says, confesses, or really sort of half-blurts. She's surprised and wide-eyed, offers nothing more behind that, her sticky fingers covering her mouth. It feels misplaced, but her words are out, open, and right there.

Seulgi remains honest. 

"At least you're both at the same place," she says.

 

 

 

 

 

The day Jackson gets back she sees pictures, just pictures of him all sun-burned, wide sunglasses, and those stupid, _stupid_ pizza socks stretched over his sneakers. His text message is simple: _yo my socks!_ and that gets her thinking all over again, about the weeks without him and how it really felt like weeks without him and that's something that she can't quite wrap her head around.

Youngji decides not answer that one.

So he calls her for coffee which, well, is fine, since she's already at the cafe and watching the counter for her mother while she runs a few errands. She doesn't practice a speech about how she's found all the answers to the universe because that would be weird, not true, and if anyone's going to discover the secrets of the universe, it would be in Jackson's pit of a brain because she just wouldn't put it past him.

He shows up around nine. 

The cafe is quiet. There are two students working on a project in the corner. A couple is arguing with a friend in front of the window. When he walks towards the counter, all she can see are his stupid socks and hints of his blonde hair disappearing into darker strands.

"I'm going to salon tomorrow," he offers, pushing his hat back. He leans over the counter and she studies him. "They're keeping me blonde."

"I hate it," she says. It's abrupt. She's also unapologetic.

Jackson looks at her, amused. "I know."

She points at his socks. "And you should have let Yugyeom keep your socks."

"You can't hate my socks though."

Youngji moves behind the espresso machine, finds a cup, and starts making him a drink. He should sleep, she thinks.

"I have to," she says. "I can't like everything you like, Wang Jackson."

"True." He follows her, staring at her over over the counter. "Then you'd be a narcissist."

It takes her a minute, but she blushes. Her bangs fold over her eyes. Oh my GOD, her brain screams. It was a line. That was a _line_.

"Don't make me throw coffee in your face. You're already sunburned," she mutters.

"I got _sun_ ," he corrects.

They stare at each other. The aerating milk makes the moment less romantic, not that she wants this to be a romantic moment, but, okay, so she's missed him and that's more than just a big deal, it's the _biggest_ deal because it was weeks this time and there was no knowledge of him being within reach. This isn't Coffee Prince and she's not cross-dressing, or pining in some ridiculous way, set to ballads either. She knows she missed him. She doesn't have to say it either.

Her feelings sort of hit her this way, anti-climatic, dry, and maybe even more confusing but she feels shy and weird and less like herself but even more so because she swears he can see right through her beyond that uncanny ability to pick apart her brain.

"Are we ever going to, you know, _date_?" she blurts, really blurts, to the point where her mouth feels like it's going to explode and she's shifting from foot to foot like an idiot. She wills herself to finish off his stupid latte.

He doesn't react.

Or wait.

He reacts and it's almost, like, impossibly to slow and small to see. It's more like it's too late, really. She sees his mouth twitch. She watches his hand reach over the counter and then his knuckles tap her forehead, then the bridge of her nose. He softens in front of her. His eyes darken. His mouth curls and he sighs a little.

"I just got home," he teases.

"That doesn't even mean anything." Her eyes narrow and he knows it's true.

"Well, I did have a lot of time in the jungle to think. I went fishing and stuff."

"That's it?"

He shrugs. "It was like a weird survival movie half the time. And I didn't see any tigers. I didn't want to think about tigers without you there to protect me."

Youngji snorts.

She puts a cap over his late, after drawing a heart with foam because she's secretly that cheesy. The heart looks more like a butt anyway and she thinks he'd might appreciate that. She hopes it makes the conversation less awkward. It's an unwritten rule that they are terrible about talking about their feelings.

She moves to step around the corner, but he meets her halfway and steps around the corner too, grabbing one of the loose aprons and tying it around himself. Her mouth opens, but he takes the latte and she sighs, watching him drink his coffee. 

He grins. "Wish you came."

"To the jungle? No thanks."

"We could have had our first date there," he muses and her cheeks are burning again. She hates him. She hates him. She _hates_ him. "A few mangos, the hyungs, a banana, and some crazy monkeys."

"I'd rather see a movie," she says dryly. "Or go to the amusement park and terrorize you on the roller coaster."

"I've gotten better," he defends.

She shrugs. "And I'm learning how to cook."

Jackson blinks. Then he tilts his head.

"Can I kiss you first then?"

This, this is the problem. There are no fireworks. It's kinda like how they started; they were natural, melted into each other, and Jackson and Youngji became Jackji or whatever it is that the Internet calls them. Or Hara. If they had a fan club, Hara would _definitely_ be the president.

But she looks at him and kind of knows, kind of knows that he knows too and that this is some strange, important point of their relationship that neither of them are quite ready to go and put a name to. In the spirit of being them, she almost says.

"I'd like to," he says and it's awkward. He flicks her forehead and her nose wrinkles.

"Right now?" she asks, then _breathes_ , or asks and breathes. Her head is spinning and he reaches up, brushing her bangs back. "Like right now, right now?"

"Is your breath bad?"

She hits him and Jackson laughs.

"Are you serious?" she asks, then she's shy and watches his hand reach for hers, their fingers lacing together.

He shrugs. "I did see your performance with Hara on the plane. Hara was definitely the prettiest." Her nose wrinkles and laughs, leaning forward. "You're really the prettiest anyway," he coos and she tries to bat his hand away from her face.

"I still hate you," she mutters.

She watches him grab her face with his hands, between his hands (it's not really grabbing, more like a gentle _nudge_ ) and her belly flutters, knots and all. Her skin is hot and she's a little dizzy because he's closer, even closer, and she feels herself fit into him. This isn't a hug. There isn't an equation. It's a little awkward, maybe slightly uncomfortable, and startling just how weird and terrifying to realize just how much they fit together.

"You don't hate me," he says, his voice low, "and I'm going to kiss you first --"

But she beats him to it instead.

Her mouth is warm. His feels hot and he makes a low noise that seems like a laugh, but tastes more like a sigh.

As far as first kisses go, this seems like it should be a second kiss and is something totally, irrevocably _different_. She presses against him, her hips hitting his. They stumble a little and the floor cracks and moans.

Jackson's mouth is soft, and even a little shy as he kisses her back. His nose hits hers and her hands are clumsy, pulling at the front of his shirt. Her elbow hits the counter too and his latte is smacked, crashing over the ledge and onto the floor. The cafe is too quiet to notice a thing and she feels Jackson's hands move to her hips.

She starts to surprise herself. There's no panic. She may just be slightly freaking out as Jackson steps backwards, then to the side, and he's walking them towards the corner and the wall. Out of mind, out of sight, you know. Everything seems to slow down though, feels heavier (she's not complaining) and she makes this _noise_ when Jackson's tongue slides over her lip and into her mouth.

It's not a competition to see who breathes the hardest. His hands are tight over her hips.

"Okay," he says slowly. "Okay," he repeats. He bites at her lip and she feels like she is going to explode. " _Okay_ ," he finishes.

She isn't exactly complaining. She might be even a little smug later.

Her eyes flutter open. "Welcome back," she says. She can't recognize her voice.

Her mother scolds them both when she gets back, biting back a smile when Jackson hurries her things to the back kitchen and Youngji takes a bucket and the mop to clean up the spill.

"I'm never getting rid of these socks," he says.

The floor stays a little sticky anyway.


End file.
